


Get Caught Up When You're Up Against the Wall

by cascades (heartroots)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartroots/pseuds/cascades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry really shouldn't be surprised that his hyung has more than kissing in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Caught Up When You're Up Against the Wall

Henry feels a tap on his shoulder. He looks, and sees Sungmin standing to his left, bent slightly at the waist so as to be face-to-face with a sitting Henry. Sungmin’s mouth is moving, but Henry doesn’t catch a word of what he’s saying. 

Henry tugs one earphone out, but doesn’t pause the song he’s listening to. “What?” 

Sungmin stops mid-syllable. He looks put out. “You just missed something very important.” 

“What?” Henry asks again. Come to think of it, Sungmin did have an urgent sort of look on his face when he was speaking. 

“Now I’m not going to tell you.”

“Can’t have been that important,” Henry says, spinning his chair away from Sungmin, “if you’re going to drop it so easily.” 

Sungmin stops Henry’s chair with a firm hand to the back of it. “Is that any way to talk to your hyung?” he scolds, his tone playful. 

Henry laughs. He takes his other earphone out and slings the cord around his neck. “I don’t know. Why are you being like this all of a sudden… _hyung_?” Henry relishes the feel of the mocking honorific rolling off his tongue. He gives Sungmin a cheeky grin. 

“You’re insufferable,” Sungmin says with a roll of his eyes. “Come with me.” 

Sungmin grabs Henry’s hand and pulls him up out of his chair. He leads him past the stylists and managers and various caliber of television people milling about backstage, all trying to get all eight of them ready on time for the interview they’re about to do, and into a dark corner behind a full-to-bursting rack of clothes and some backup sound equipment. 

“What are we doing?” Henry asks. 

“If you’d been listening earlier, you wouldn’t have to ask,” Sungmin says, and then he shoves Henry up against the wall and crowds in on him with that familiar glint in his eye, and oh, okay. That’s what they’re doing. A quick makeout session before anyone realizes they’ve gone missing. Henry knows how this goes. 

Henry says, “Don’t worry. I think I can figure it out for myself,” and then he curves his hand around the back of Sungmin’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. Sungmin smiles against Henry’s lips and presses closer to him, tilts his head and opens his mouth over Henry’s. Henry’s heart beats fast, loving the feeling of Sungmin’s body against his. Sungmin’s warm and soft in all the right places—better naked than clothed, but he does look nice in the all-black outfit that matches Henry’s. Matches everyone else’s, actually, but somehow Sungmin still makes it look all his own. Sungmin presses even closer, forearms braced on the wall behind Henry, and shoves his tongue past Henry’s parted lips. Henry makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, slides his fingers up into the thick hair at the nape of Sungmin’s neck. His other hand comes up to rest on Sungmin’s hip. “Told you I’d be fine,” Henry whispers, cocky and a bit breathless, as he kisses his way down Sungmin’s pale neck. 

“Oh yeah?” Sungmin moves Henry’s head away from his neck and removes his hand from his hair. Then he drops to his knees. “What about now?” 

“Sungmin!” Henry hisses, eyes wide, “Hyung, get up. You can’t— are you kidding me? Not here!”

“I thought you said you’d be fine?” Sungmin hums as he bats Henry’s hands away from his crotch and manages to pull down his zipper, despite all of Henry’s evasive wriggling. 

“I thought we were just making out! Seriously, get up.” Henry tries to haul Sungmin up by his underarms, but Sungmin stubbornly stays put. 

“What I said before was,” Sungmin says as he unbuttons the button, and the other two very unnecessary buttons, on Henry’s pants, “and I quote, ‘Henry-yah, do you want me to take you somewhere no one can see, get on my knees for you and suck your cock until you come in my mouth?’ Do you see why it was important that you listen?” 

Henry wishes he wasn’t blushing. “You said that out loud? Where anyone could hear?”

“I said it quietly.” 

“Sungmin, you are not giving me a blowjob here. We’re not even behind closed doors, there are probably security cameras, someone might come looking for us—” 

“I don’t care,” Sungmin says, and his warm palm cupping Henry’s bulge through his boxers makes Henry question whether or not he really cares either. “I want to suck you off, Henry. I want to hear you come for me and taste you on my tongue. Please, Henry.” Sungmin licks his lips, perhaps to remind Henry just how good that tongue feels, as he works Henry’s hardening cock through the fabric. “Please let me.” 

Henry swallows. “We’re going to get caught,” he says, which isn’t a no. He’s getting further and further from no every time Sungmin’s fingers, talented as the rest of him, pass over the length of his cock. And honestly, just thinking about how close they might be to someone walking by and seeing them, seeing Sungmin on his knees swallowing Henry, maybe even catching them in the moment when Henry’s come coats Sungmin’s perfectly-shaped lips, sends even more blood rushing below Henry’s waist. Henry didn’t know he had a kink for public sex, but Sungmin brings out a lot of kinks he didn’t know he had. Or maybe he never had them until Sungmin came along.

“No we’re not,” Sungmin impatiently assures him. His fingertips brush the hot flesh through the opening in Henry’s boxers. “And even if we do,” Sungmin drags the pad of his thumb over the wet head and Henry sucks in a sharp breath, his cock twitching appreciatively in Sungmin’s barely-there grasp, “I’ve been caught doing much worse. So stop worrying.” 

Henry’s head thunks against the wall. Sungmin’s pulled Henry’s cock through the open flap in his boxers and now has his hand wrapped warm and dry around the base, knuckles brushing the hem of the elaborate shirt that Henry’s glad he had stylists to help him figure out, because he wouldn’t have been sure how to put it on by himself. 

“Now remember, Henry,” Sungmin says as he cranes his neck to press his closed lips against the head of Henry’s cock. He scoots forward a little on his knees and does it again, this time with parted lips. “We’re in public, so you can’t be loud. Unless you want someone to hear.” 

Henry bites his lip hard to hold back a moan, but it still comes through. Sungmin’s lips are shiny with his precome until he licks it all off, and then they’re shiny with his own saliva. His mouth drops open and he tongues at the slit, at the spot right underneath the head, halfway down the length of Henry’s cock and then back up until Henry has to clench his fists hard enough to dig his fingernails painfully into his palm to stop himself from fisting his hands in Sungmin’s hair. It’s already perfectly styled, and if Henry messes it up he’ll have hell to pay. Probably in the form of an even more ridiculous shirt next time he goes on stage. 

“Shit Sungmin,” he breathes. “Come on. We don’t have time.” He shallowly thrusts his hips to push the head of his cock just past Sungmin’s teasing lips, into the wet heat of his mouth. 

Sungmin, rather than scolding him for being impatient like he normally would, opens his mouth wider and takes Henry in deeper, plump lips stretching around Henry’s achingly hard flesh. Sungmin fists him once, coaxing a few more drops of precome from the tip of his cock that Henry assumes spill onto Sungmin’s tongue. Then the hand that was on Henry’s cock finds its way to his ass, groping and kneading through the stretchy fabric. Henry moans at almost full volume; he just can’t help himself. Sungmin looks up at him, smiles as best he can around his mouthful before he takes Henry’s cock in as close to the base as he can with Henry’s clothes still partially in his way. 

Henry chokes a little on the air he’s breathing. “Sungmin-hyung, fuck.”

Sungmin pulls off Henry’s cock halfway, angles his head and opens his throat and then goes right back down again. He holds Henry’s hips still with both hands as he starts to suck. Henry stares at the slow sweep of his eyelashes, the hollowing of his flushed cheeks and, again, at his lips, sliding so smoothly over Henry’s length, stretched so far. Sungmin breathes calmly through his nose, eyes sharp and determined, and every movement of his mouth is focused on pushing Henry closer to the edge. Sungmin moans when Henry outlines the seal of his lips around his cock with his thumb; he wipes a trace of saliva from Sungmin’s chin while he’s at it. Sungmin drags Henry’s hips forward and then lets go of them altogether—a clear indication that Henry’s now allowed to fuck Sungmin’s throat. Henry moans even louder and thrusts erratically into Sungmin’s mouth, without giving him a moment to adjust. Sungmin’s breathing turns harsh, his eyes beginning to water. 

“Hyung, I’m—” Henry starts to say, but just then Sungmin swallows around him, and gags and then swallows again, and Henry doesn’t get a chance to finish his warning before he’s gasping and coming over the back of Sungmin’s tongue. Sungmin pulls off of his cock and the last of Henry’s come coats his lips, some of it making it into his open mouth while the rest slides down his chin as he sucks in faltering gulps of air. 

Henry has to close his eyes as he catches his breath. He lets out a drawn out, “ _Fuck_ ,” in English, too overwhelmed to do anything more than stay upright and try not to tremble too noticeably. 

Sungmin wipes the come from his chin with the heel of his hand and then licks it off, eyes never leaving Henry’s; he smacks his lips and smiles up at Henry. “You sure liked that.” 

Henry can’t believe he’s blushing again. To keep Sungmin from noticing and teasing him about it, he pulls him to his feet and kisses him hard. He doesn’t really like the taste of his own come, but off of Sungmin’s lips it’s not too bad. Blindly, without breaking the kiss, Sungmin tucks Henry’s softening cock back inside his boxers, hitches his pants back up on his hips where they belong, and zips his fly; Henry swats Sungmin hands away and handles the three buttons on his own. 

“What about you?” Henry asks when the kiss turns lazy, pressing his thigh against the hard bulge in Sungmin’s pants.

“I’ll be fine for now. We don’t have time anyway.” 

“You sure?” 

Sungmin kisses him on the cheek, then on the nose. “I’m sure. And if you want to make it up to me, all you have to do is let me do anything I want to this ass,” Sungmin squeezes one cheek of that ass just to make Henry squirm, “when we get back tonight. Deal?” 

“Deal.” Henry nods, already excited and a little nervous at the thought of what anything might entail. “We should go back out there,” Henry says, but neither he nor Sungmin make a move to leave. He’s torn between getting back on time and kissing Sungmin breathless. Then his orgasm-rattled brain fails to stop him from saying, “God, your lips look amazing,” out loud, and they start up all over again. 

They make out, a lot less urgently than before, until Henry hears Zhou Mi calling for them from only a few meters away. Henry panics. He breaks the kiss, hastily removes Sungmin’s hands from beneath his complicated shirt, and shoves him out from behind the rack of clothes. Luckily, Sungmin is graceful enough not to topple over from the frantic force of Henry’s push. “Oh, hi Zhou Mi!” Henry hears Sungmin say. Henry stumbles out after him once he fixes his shirt, or at least tries to. 

Zhou Mi is suspicious, but Sungmin negates his scolding by mentioning that incident last week when he and Kyuhyun were both late for a radio interview, and oddly enough the bathroom door had been locked a few minutes earlier when Sungmin tried to get inside— weird, right? Henry giggles behind his hand and gives Sungmin a fist bump when Zhou Mi lets out a frustrated breath and tells them to hurry up. Sungmin laughs and steals one last quick kiss, and they both follow after Zhou Mi. 

They’re near the back where no cameras can see, so Sungmin keeps his hand in Henry’s back pocket almost all the way through the interview, as if to remind him of just what he promised to let Sungmin do to him later. Henry leans into his touch and, when the host is distracted bantering back and forth with Zhou Mi in rapid fire Chinese, he whispers, “Can’t wait, hyung.”


End file.
